


Like An Idiot Misses the Point

by leyley09



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Jealousy, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 02:45:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5768359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leyley09/pseuds/leyley09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Artemi Panarin wishes everyone would stop being subtle and vague and let one of their Russian teammates translate whatever it is they're trying to tell him. And also that Jonathan Toews would stop glaring at him all the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like An Idiot Misses the Point

**Author's Note:**

> So I was talking with a friend about Jonny's aggressive start to the season (I can't believe he's leading the team in PIM), and then we started seeing all these adorable pics of Artemi and Patrick together, and OOOHHHH, poor Jonny. So this is my version of why he's suddenly being a little nicer to Artemi lately.
> 
> Set from a vague point at the beginning of the season through the Vegas stop of the circus trip. Game events were described as best I could put together from pictures/videos/my memory, and I apologize for anything I've screwed up regardless!
> 
> PLEASE NOTE - Conversations in italics are meant to be occurring in Russian, but I don't speak Russian, and personally I hate having to translate mid-read, so that's my solution. I also wrote out everything that is being said around Artemi, whether or not he's understanding all of it.
> 
> Many thanks to ChelseaIBelieve and D for audiencing, suggestions, and help with my endless title struggles.

The first time it happens, Artemi is peeling out of his gear after practice. He’s only been with the Blackhawks for a couple of weeks; his English comprehension is still sketchy.

As he’s unlacing his skates, Duncan Keith sits down next to him. Artemi glances around, looking for one of the other Russians. Neither of them are in sight, but if Keith - ‘Duncs’, he reminds himself - just wants to talk about hockey, they can probably manage. He does pretty well with hand gestures, in his own opinion.

“Hey, man, has anybody explained….” Keith jerks his head in the general direction of a group of about a dozen other players across the room.

Artemi has no idea what he’s talking about. Maybe if he’s patient, Keith will explain. He fixes a curious expression on his face and hopes for the best.

“It’s just-” Keith sighs, sounding a little frustrated and running a hand through his hair. “Be careful around Kaner, okay? Don’t get too carried away with the buddy-buddy stuff.” He makes a vague gesture at the other group. “Sometimes, he can’t tell the difference between ‘friendly’ and ‘flirty’, and, well, he’s bigger than you, we don’t want to see you get hurt, okay?”

Artemi blinks at him a few times.

“Alright, good.” Keith pats him on the back and stands up. “Nice practice today!” 

Artemi is left gaping after him as he walks away. He only understood about a third of that. Who’s bigger, and why would anyone be getting hurt? And what does Kaner have to do with anything? 

Across the room, Toews is holding a phone above his head as Kaner tries (and fails) to jump up and reach it, eventually resorting to attempting to climb up Toews. They’re both laughing as he ends up overbalancing both of them, sending them crashing to the floor. Kaner snatches the phone and runs out of the room with Toews on his heels.

Artemi heads for the showers, shaking his head. It’s nice to know locker rooms are kind of the same everywhere.

 

*************************************************************************************************************

 

The second time it happens is on the bus to the hotel in Minneapolis, after a loss to Winnipeg. Artemi had a really nice assist, him and Seabrook, on Kaner’s goal in the first period. Seabrook - ‘Seabs’, he’s going to get all these nicknames down eventually - squeezes into the seat next to him before Viktor can sit. Viktor shrugs at him in resignation and moves further into the bus to find a seat.

“Nice pass tonight, Breadman.”

“Thank you,” Artemi replies carefully.

“Can I remind you about something? I, uh, I know Duncs talked to you a couple weeks ago, but you’ve really got to watch your cellys with Kaner, okay? I mean, you guys play really great together, and that’s bad enough, but if you keep being all giggly about it, shit’s gonna get really uncomfortable for everybody.”

“Okay?” If he needs to watch his goal cellys along with his game tape, he will, but he didn’t know that was something he was supposed to do. 

The bus slows to a stop in front of the hotel.

“Great, good talk, man.” Seabs grins at Artemi as he stands up. “See you in the morning.”

Artemi is watching him walk down the aisle towards the door, confused expression on his face, when Viktor stops at the end of the row.

_ “What was that about?” _

_ “He said I need to watch the tape of my cellys, especially the ones with Kaner.” _

_ “Why?” _

_ “I have no fucking idea.” _

_ “I think maybe he was messing with you, Tyoma. I’ve never heard of anyone doing that.” _

_ “Oh, thank god. That’s pretty lame for rookie hazing, right?” _

_ “Yeah, that’s pretty mild. But can you imagine if anyone had seen you do it? You’d never hear the end of it.” _

They file out of the bus, almost at the end of the line. Only Kaner and Tazer are still behind them, speaking quietly as the line inches down the aisle and through the door. Artemi makes out the words “parents” and “dinner” from Tazer, but can’t understand the rest of it; Tazer’s talking too fast and practically spitting his words out.

“Sorry, man, I totally forgot,” Kaner replies as they catch up to Artemi, “Teeks was giving me Russian lessons, and I totally lost track of time. I’m gonna see if I can get this one to follow instructions.” He pokes Artemi in the back of the neck.

Artemi looks back over his shoulder to grin at Kaner, receiving one in reply. He glances up to include Tazer in the joke and is startled by the angry expression on his face. It’s gone quickly, replaced by the same blank expression he’s seen Tazer use during interviews by the time Kaner turns to look over his own shoulder. That was odd. You’d think Tazer would be pleased Kaner’s trying to communicate better with his linemates. 

He doesn’t think about it again until they’re getting on the bus the next morning to head to the arena and overhears Seabs asking Kaner about dinner with Tazer’s parents. He can’t hear Kaner’s response - Kaner’s facing the wrong direction, and it’s loud on the bus - but he can see the disappointment on Seabs’s face. He gets distracted by the conversation happening in the seats around him about the game that night and forgets all about it.

 

********************************************************************************************************

 

A week later, Artemi is on the ice when Jonathan Toews has his fourth-ever fight during an NHL game. He wasn’t close enough to hear what was said; he probably wouldn’t have understood it anyway. He does slide into the melee to keep a couple of the New Jersey players out of the fight, but for the most part, he stands out of the way watching with everyone else. He glances over at the bench a couple of times. Most of the team is drumming their sticks against the boards; well, everyone but Kaner. Kaner looks almost...disappointed? Annoyed? Possibly both. Kaner’s glanced up the at replay screen a couple times, but for the most part has his eyes glued to the grappling men on the ice.

Eventually the linesmen separate Tazer from the Devils player, Henrique, and send him off towards the locker room. Artemi taps him with his stick as Tazer skates by; he’s completely ignored. He slows to catch up to Seabrook, who’s muttering under his breath: “shit, shit, this is bad, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He nudges Seabrook. “Tazer hurt?”

“Oh, no, he looks fine. Uh, not hurt. Just,” Seabs taps a finger against his head, “not good in here.”

Artemi frowns. He hadn’t really noticed anything different about Tazer, but he doesn’t know these guys very well yet. 

The rest of the game is pretty bad. He manages an assist in the third, but two goals isn’t enough to get them a win. It’s quiet in the locker room once the reporters have cleared out. There’s very little conversation as they dress and load onto the bus. Artemi’s sitting alone in a row towards the middle of the bus when he hears Kaner’s voice coming up the aisle.

“What the hell were you thinking, Jonny? That was just stupid. What if he’d gotten a good shot in? You can’t go around encouraging people to punch you in the head, dumbass.”

“Well, he didn’t, so let it go, Pat, okay?”

“No, because it’s not okay. I can’t, I can’t even deal with you right now.”

Artemi is startled when someone drops into the seat next to him. He jerks his head up to see Kaner shoving earbuds in and ostentatiously ignoring Tazer standing in the aisle next to him. Artemi looks up at Tazer, still sort of shocked, and recoils from the obvious hostility in Tazer’s face. He drops his eyes back to his own phone, in his lap, trying to ignore the barely audible growling coming from the aisle. Eventually, Tazer gives up and moves towards the back of the bus. Kaner visibly relaxes into the seat.

As the bus shifts into motion, he nudges Kaner’s leg with his knee. “Okay?”

Kaner looks up at him and shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know what that stupid fight was about.” He looks back at the phone in his lap before muttering “fucking moron” at it. The screen lights up, as if in response. He swipes at the screen, poking at it practically with intent to injure. 

The rest of the trip to the airport, Artemi watches from the corner of his eye as Kaner texts almost viciously, stabbing at the keyboard and muttering obscenities under his breath. Artemi would be willing to bet actual money that he’s fighting with whoever is on the other end of that conversation.

At the airport, there’s a short period of time in which Artemi thinks he might have a quiet, relaxing flight back to Chicago. Unfortunately, that comes to an end when he finds himself directly in front of Kaner in the line to climb the stairs to the plane. He tries to ignore him as hand luggage gets sorted, but then something happens which causes a hush to fall over the entire plane -  Kaner picks a window seat and drags Artemi in by his wrist to take the aisle seat. 

Kaner pays no attention to the rest of the team’s reactions, just starts settling into his seat, fiddling with phone, iPad, headphones, and blankets. Artemi makes eye contact with several people in his shock: Turbo and TVR are peeking over the backs of their seats, eyes wide; Seabs looks like he might cry as he drops into the seat next to Duncs; Crow looks both annoyed and resigned. 

And then, if it’s even physically possible, the plane gets even quieter - Tazer’s cleared the galley. He comes to an abrupt halt about four rows ahead of where Artemi and Kaner are sitting. Artemi can feel Kaner practically vibrating in his seat next to him, but he never looks up from the iPad in his lap. Tazer takes a deep breath, clearly visible and audible to everyone on the plane, and takes the remaining few steps to come even with them.

“Pat.” He’s speaking a lot quieter than Artemi was expecting.

“Jonny.” Artemi might not speak English well, but ‘bitchy’ translates into any language.

“Pat, please.”

This is so, so awkward. Artemi moves to get up, but Kaner clamps a hand around his wrist before he gets far. It’s not like he couldn’t get away if he really wanted to, but it wouldn’t be without a struggle.

“I can’t talk to you right now, Jonathan. Just, not now.”

Someone’s low whistle cuts abruptly into a cough.

Artemi can practically feel the deep breath Tazer takes before he turns abruptly and stalks up the aisle to drop into the seat next to Crow. Kaner abruptly lets go of Artemi’s wrist as he sighs. He pats Artemi’s knee and whispers “sorry” before slipping his headphones on and closing his eyes.

About a half an hour after take off, Shawzy drops into a crouch in the aisle next to Artemi. He looks past at Kaner for a moment, but Kaner’s either very asleep or very engrossed in the music playing through his headphones. Shawzy still leans in close before he starts speaking quietly into Artemi’s ear.

“I know you didn’t do this on purpose, but you do  **not** want to get in the middle of this fight. Take it from someone who tried to buffer for Mom and Dad as a rookie - it just leads to a lot of unpleasantness.” 

‘Mom and Dad’? What?

Shawzy straightens up and turns as if to walk back to his seat, but he pauses and leans back in. “And just a tip: try to stay away from Tazer at the next couple of practices, okay?”

How in the hell is he supposed to do that?

The flight isn’t long, and by the time Artemi has thoroughly distracted himself with Russian tv on his own iPad, the plane is landing.

As they’re waiting to disembark, Kaner elbows him. “Need a ride home?”

That was loud enough for most of the plane to hear. Artemi glances up the aisle and watches Crow pushing Tazer ahead of him towards the exit.

“Okay, yes.”

They file off the plane with everyone else, collect their luggage, and head for the parking lot. The silence between them is becoming somewhat uncomfortable, so Artemi does the most natural thing - he starts talking. 

“So pizza Chicago, much good, yes?”

Kaner’s chuckle breaks free almost without his permission. He looks startled by it, but he does relax just a smidgen.

“Very good, bud, it’s very good.”

“Pizza ‘very’ good?”   


“Yes, that’s better.”

“No, no, no! Very good?”

“Oh! Yes, Chicago pizza is very good,” Kaner laughs as they reach his car.

Artemi keeps up the chatter as they drive back into the city. He talks about what he likes about Chicago and what he misses about home. Some of it is even in English. Kaner corrects him occasionally and sometimes contributes, but he devotes most of his attention to driving.

It’s late, so it takes very little time for them to arrive in front of Artemi’s building. 

“Thank you for ride,” Artemi enunciates carefully as he climbs out of the SUV.

“You’re welcome,” Kaner says with a smile. “Hey, Breadman?”

“Yes?” He looks back into the vehicle.

“Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome?” Artemi doesn’t know what he did, but he knows that is the polite response. 

Kaner’s smile shifts into something a little sad and a little tired, so Artemi hurries to collect his bags. He waves from the sidewalk as the SUV pulls back into traffic, then turns to head inside. He’s looking forward to his own bed. Dealing with his teammates is starting to be exhausting.

 

*************************************************************************************************************

 

For the next few days, Artemi takes Shawzy’s advice and tries to avoid Tazer at practice. It’s not as hard as he’d expected. There are enough guys around to create a buffer, and it’s pretty easy to make sure there are people between them in most of the drills. 

Unfortunately, he lets his guard down about a week later. They’ve just lost to the Devils - again - and are playing the Blues in St. Louis tomorrow. Maybe that has something to do with it; maybe Tazer’s just better at carrying a grudge than Artemi expected.

It seems like a simple game of keep-away, the kind of thing that happens between players at any hockey practice in any country during any practice. Somehow, though, it takes a turn that Artemi is not expecting, until he finally ends up on his ass on the ice as Tazer skates away, leaving the puck sitting motionless beside him. Granted, Tazer’s got almost 14 kilos on him, but nothing about that seemed fun or lighthearted. He pulls himself to his feet, reminding himself not to look concerned. This is an open practice, and someone was probably filming that. They don’t need to know that felt strangely personal.

After practice, it feels like there’s a bubble around him until Crow climbs onto the stationary bike next to his in the training room. It’s subtle, but everyone in the room shifts away from them. This can’t be good.

“So Shawzy tells me that he warned you about staying away from Jonny.” Crow’s always so direct; Artemi appreciates that about him. He nods in response, which must encourage Crow to continue.

“I know you understood that what happened on the plane last week was awkward. So I don’t understand why you thought it would be a good idea to go home with Kaner.”

“Didn’t go ‘home’. Was just ride.”

Crow turns to look at him. “Just a ride? To your home?”

“Yes, just ride. Swear.”

“Okay, well, that’s good.” Crow pauses for a couple of minutes, clearly pondering his next words carefully. “I don’t think the guys have been clear enough about this with you, so someone obviously needs to explain it better. Jonny, Tazer, he’s got dibs on Kaner. Well, more on Kaner’s attention, I guess. You know that word? Dibs?” 

“Means first, yes?”

“Basically. It means that we let him have Kaner’s attention first, or at least the opportunity to have Kaner’s attention first. We kinda let him get used to that, I think, and that’s causing a problem now.”

“What is problem?”

“Kaner’s been paying a lot of attention to you since you started playing together, hanging out with you, having lunch with you and Teeks, right? Well, that means that he isn’t hanging out with Tazer.”

Artemi might be having his very first epiphany right here on this bike.

“Tazer miss him. Like - like, uh, homesick,” he says, gesturing at himself.

Crow chuckles. “Yeah kid, he misses him. He won’t say that, but that’s the problem.”

“How we fix?”

Crow laughs outright. “That’s a good question, kid. I’ll let you know when I come up with something.”

 

*************************************************************************************************************

 

Artemi watches the next day as they travel to St. Louis. Tazer’s eyes follow Kaner wherever he happens to be. He’s not very subtle about trying to stick close as they go through security and board the plane, but Kaner manages to lose him just long enough that Shawzy ends up as the buffer this time. (Shawzy does not look pleased about this.) Tazer looks like a kid who just dropped his ice cream cone. Artemi takes his seat next to Viktor and tries to put Tazer’s disappointed face out of his mind.

That’s hard to do when Tazer charges Backes during the second period. Sure, the hit on Hammer was sort of dirty, but there was already a whistle. There’s no real need for the fight going on across the ice. He hears Kaner swearing from a few seats down. 

The game goes on. St. Louis scores a couple of times before, well, Artemi’s not really sure, he wasn’t really watching that part of the ice, but it kind of looks like Kaner started some shit. He’s been backed into the boards by a crowd of Blues players, still mouthing off at somebody in the scrum.

Artemi shuffles into his seat on the bench, listening to Seabs muttering under his breath about “stupid, stupid people” and “ridiculous fucking penalties”. He’s starting to agree with him.

Kaner ends up with a penalty, which is pretty unlike him. Jonny looks pissed. There’s some snapping on the bench afterwards that Artemi tries not to pay attention to. But apparently that was the incentive everyone needed; the Blues don’t score again for the rest of the game. 

A much happier crowd of players climbs onto the bus. As they wait to pass through security at the airport, Artemi notices Seabs moving through the group. He’s speaking in low murmurs, not lingering with anyone, but everyone nods at him as he moves away. It takes him a few minutes to reach Artemi and Viktor.

“Okay, so no one sits with Pat on the plane besides Jonny, alright? If he tries to drag you in, make whatever excuse you need to in order to get away, but do  _ not _ under any circumstances sit down next to him. Understood?”

Artemi doesn’t completely, but Viktor nods, so it’s fine. Seabs nods back and moves on to the next cluster of players as Viktor repeats the instructions, in Russian this time. 

Peering around the waiting area, Artemi finally spots Kaner being monopolized by Shawzy, who looks like he hasn’t stopped talking for the last five minutes, not even to breathe. Tazer’s only a couple feet away, clearly paying no attention to whatever Crow and Duncs are talking about in front of him, as he’s too busy watching Kaner. 

When they finally start to move through security, Artemi is astonished to watch an entire mass of people move seamlessly, but without overt organization, to achieve a goal. Without any noticeable effort on Tazer’s part (like the shoving from yesterday), he’s never more than two feet from Kaner at any given time. They shuffle around at the foot of the stairs, in a way that looks completely innocent but isn’t; when they start climbing the stairs, Tazer’s right behind Kaner and looks ready to throw an elbow if anyone tries to shove past him. No one gives him the pleasure.

When Artemi and Viktor pass down the aisle towards the empty seats near the rear, he takes a quick peek into their row. They aren’t talking to each other, too busy settling in; Kaner’s playing with his phone, Tazer’s pulling an iPad out of his bag. But they’re both smiling. 

  
  


************************************************************************************************************

 

Artemi’s been hearing about the circus trip since he arrived in Chicago. It’s a long trip - 14 days, 6 games - across western Canada and down the west coast of the US. He’s looking forward to the stopover in Las Vegas in particular.

The travel is uneventful and becoming boring in the way that any repetitive activity does. He practices his English with Viktor and watches Seabs and Shawzy argue through several hands of Chinese poker while Kaner and Garbutt laugh at them.

It’s been several days since Crow said he was working on a plan to deal with Tazer. Artemi’s heard nothing since then, which is starting to concern him. He would really like to get through a day with the team without being glared at for being too close to Kaner.

Crow’s sitting next to Tazer, closer to the front of the plane and on the opposite side so Artemi can’t see him very well, but he doesn’t seem to be doing a great job of distracting Tazer on this flight. Every so often, Tazer looks back over his shoulder at the card game going on mid-plane. Artemi’s been watching for about half an hour now, and it looks to be about every ninety seconds. Unless, of course, Kaner is laughing; he always looks for that. 

They win in Edmonton, lose in Calgary and Vancouver. The airports blur together. The interior hallways of the arenas are uniformly concrete. The hotels are indistinguishable from each other. The only thing adding any excitement is the continuation of Kaner’s point streak. He’s creeping up slowly on the US-born player record as the trip goes on, and that seems to be the only thing the press want to talk about right now. Artemi discovers that he can tell - from across the room even - when a reporter has asked Tazer about it just by the look on his face.

The tension of the long trip, the losses, and the general lack of sleep seems to melt off the entire team as the plane touches down in Las Vegas. Artemi’s never been to Vegas before, but he’s heard interesting things about it. Some of the guys had been reminiscing about previous visits, and Viktor cannot have translated all of it correctly. Right this second though, he’s just looking forward to an actual bed. Sleeping on the plane isn’t really pleasant. He drags himself through the trip to the hotel and the controlled chaos of checking in to the hotel. He takes the key he’s handed, finds the nearest elevator, and is asleep less than thirty minutes later.

He’s woken the next morning by knocking on the door connecting his room to the next one. He can’t make out the words through the door, but he’s pretty sure he recognizes the voice. He stumbles out of bed, tripping over his own shoes. He’s still rubbing the grit from his eyelashes when he pulls the door open to reveal Tazer, mid-knock. They stare at each for a few seconds.

“What. The. Actual. Fuck are  _ you _ doing in Kaner’s room.” For all that “what” is one of the question words he’s learned, that does not sound like a question. It sounds threatening and a little dangerous.

“Not Kaner’s. Mine.” He’s not awake enough for this.

“No, that’s not right. Pat is supposed to be in this room, it’s connected to mine.”

Artemi shrugs. “Sorry. Maybe give wrong?”

Tazer glares at him. “Obviously.”

Okay, rude.

A ‘ding’ from Tazer’s pocket interrupts the glaring. He pulls his phone out, and his face lights up with more than just the glow from the screen. 

Artemi’s too sleepy to filter. “Is Kaner?”

Tazer jerks his head up to look at Artemi again. “What?!”

He points at the phone. “Is Kaner.”

Tazer’s eyebrows draw together in confusion. “How can you tell?”

Artemi gestures at his own face. “Eyes happy.” He holds up a finger. “Is good hockey or,” as he holds up another finger, “is Kaner.” He shrugs; surely Tazer knows the only things that make him look like that are hockey and Kaner.

But maybe he didn’t. He looks like a cartoon character who’s just been hit with a board. His phone dings again. He looks back at it reflexively; on anyone else, that quirk of the lips would be a full-blown grin. It’s definitely Kaner. He doesn’t have time to respond before there’s a knock at the door to Tazer’s room. Both of them look up at it.

Artemi stands somewhat forgotten in the doorway as Tazer strides over to open the door. Kaner’s on the other side, looking sleep-rumpled and kind of soft around the edges. He smiles at Tazer.

“I think we got a little mixed up. Oh, hey, Breadman.”

Artemi waves awkwardly.

“I just woke Teeks up, so I think they mixed up someone’s keys.” Kaner smiles at Artemi, before tipping his head back to look at Tazer. “Are you ready for breakfast?”

“Yeah, uh. Yeah.” Tazer’s smiling back at him, that same expression he gets when reporters ask him about the point streak. 

Artemi bites his lip; he’s not going to laugh at them if he can help it. They’re being absolutely ridiculous. He slowly backs away from the doorway until he can shut the door on his side. Free to giggle now, he’s still smiling when he digs his phone out of last night’s pants to text Viktor.

_ What time are we meeting Artem? _

He’s picking his clothes up off the floor when the response arrives.

_ Breakfast in an hour. And I think one of us is going to need to change rooms _ .

_ Ok. Yes, I think we are. _

He resolves to find Crow at some point and report the incident. Maybe the information will help. But first, time for breakfast and sightseeing.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

That night, most of the team goes clubbing together. Artemi’s not sure how this counts as team bonding, since it’s loud enough that no one’s able to talk. Maybe laughing at each other trying to dance counts. They wander from club to club, sometimes stopping for no longer than a round of drinks, sometimes lingering for a few.

The club they’re in currently is just massive; Artemi’s been in smaller airports. He’s been in towns with fewer people. It’s crowded and loud, and he has no idea where the rest of the team is. He followed Kaner out into the crowd on the dance floor about five minutes after they got here, after a shove from Teeks. They spend half a dozen songs in a mixed crowd of people, both dancing with whoever pushes in closest, before Kaner grabs his arm and tugs a bit.

“Drink?” he shouts into Artemi’s ear.

Artemi doesn’t bother answering, just nods and follows. They nearly get separated a couple of times, so in order to keep up, Artemi wraps an arm around Kaner from behind, clutching onto the front of his shirt. He regrets that the moment they break through the edge of the crowd right in front of Tazer. 

Tazer’s eyes lock on his grip on Kaner’s shirt, and the happy, relaxed expression on his face disappears. Artemi can’t let go fast enough.  _ Shit, shit, shit. _ He backs away from Kaner as quickly as he can without tripping and climbs over a few people into the booth Tazer isn’t sitting in already.

Viktor leans in to shout “ _ What the fuck was that?” _

_ “It was nothing, I just didn’t want to get lost.”  _ He shrugs.

He lets a couple of drinks come and go before he peeks over at the other booth. To absolutely no one’s surprise, Kaner has been wedged in towards the back of the booth, facing Artemi’s booth, with Tazer between him and the crowd. He doesn’t look like he’s going to be going anywhere anytime soon; Tazer’s wrapped an arm over his shoulders and around to grasp the neckline of Kaner’s shirt, the same way Artemi’s seen Kaner do to Tazer’s jersey during a celly. As he watches, Kaner reaches up with his right hand and just holds on to Tazer’s arm. Neither of them is even looking at the other. 

Artemi catches Crow’s eye from his spot on Kaner’s other side. Crow just winks at him and smiles before returning his attention to the conversation. Maybe it’s going to be okay?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It’s not okay. Artemi has managed, under the influence of a respectable amount of top-shelf vodka, to forget that Tazer holds a grudge like it’s his job.

The next morning, after leaving his new room (down the hall and connected to Viktor’s), Artemi is ambushed just outside of the elevators in the lobby while on his way to breakfast. A hand grabs his arm, and he’s dragged into a small alcove with a thirty-year-old payphone. And Tazer. A menacing, glowering Tazer who has him backed into a corner.

“Look, I don’t know what your issue is, but I’m going to need you to back the fuck off,” he spits (almost literally) at Artemi.

“Uh. What?” He recognized some of those words, but not enough for that sentence to make sense before coffee.

Tazer exhales sharply. “Stay. Away. From. Pat.” He accompanies each word with a jab of his finger into Artemi’s chest.

Oh. “Why?”

This feels like a valid question to Artemi. He understands about the “dibs”; he made Viktor explain it to him again after his initial conversation with Crow. He even understands missing spending time with people who are important to you; ninety-nine percent of his people are on the other side of the world, for fuck’s sake. He has some speculations about why Tazer wants him to stay away from Kaner, but he’ll be damned if he won’t make him say it out loud.

Tazer actually backs up, just a bit, like he’s surprised by this question. He opens and closes his mouth several times, but still hasn’t managed to say anything when someone shoves in between them.

“Jesus, Jonny, what’s your problem? Let the boy breathe.” Kaner has to put both hands on Tazer’s chest and push to get him to move further away. Artemi appreciates that; he wasn’t really excited about being pinned to a wall by two people. Tazer bumps into the opposite wall after only a couple of steps. This alcove was not built to house three adult humans at one time.

“You okay, Breadman?” Kaner half turns to ask. 

“Yes.”

“What are you scaring the rookie for anyway, Jonny? It’s a little late for hazing, don’t you think?”

Tazer doesn’t answer. He’s too busy staring at Kaner like he’s never seen him before. This is clearly not going to fly; Kaner turns back to Artemi.

“What the hell is going on in here?” He asks, waving his hands around as if to indicate the whole situation he walked in on.

Artemi might not speak great English, but he’s still a bit of an asshole. He looks Tazer right in the face as he replies, “Tazer says ‘stay away’.”

“Stay away? From what?”

“Not ‘what’. You.”

“Me? Wait, stay away from  _ me _ ? What the fucking hell, Jonny?” The accompanying shove and light bounce off the wall seems to snap Tazer out of his daze.

“Yes, from you,” he snaps. “He’s always around and in the way. He’s taking up all your free time and most of your attention, and, and.” There’s a pause as he sighs and sags back into the wall. He continues quietly, “and you like him better.”

It’s hard to say who’s more surprised right now. Artemi can’t believe that actually worked, and Kaner, well. Eyes wide, mouth gaping, he looks like he hasn’t breathed in a while. Just about the time Artemi’s going to poke him to check, he shakes his head a couple times and runs a hand over his face.

“Jonathan,” he says quietly, hand still over his face, “you’re a moron.”

Tazer’s looking at his shoes; he shrugs, like that’s not news, and stuffs his hands into his pockets.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been ignoring you. It wasn’t on purpose, but it was still shitty. But,” Kaner’s voice cracks a little, “I have no idea how you could think that I like anyone better than I like you.” He laughs, almost sadly. “That’s not even possible.”

“What?” Tazer barely vocalizes the question, but it’s enough to get Kaner to look at him again.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Kaner mutters, and then throws himself at Tazer.

It’s not as smooth of a hug as they manage on the ice, but that could have something to do with the lack of pads. It sort of looks like Kaner smacks his forehead into Tazer’s chin, and Tazer’s head might have bounced off the wall a little bit. It doesn’t look like he minds.

Artemi almost gets punched in the stomach trying to edge past them for the exit. It looks like that was an accident, just the consequence of Tazer trying to get a better grip. He moved just in time, actually. He’s barely cleared the opening to the alcove when he hears a thud. Glancing over his shoulder, he discovers he can no longer see Kaner, who is mostly likely between Tazer and the wall now. Thank god they’re just mumbling to each other now; this is a conversation he does  _ not _ need to hear. 

The elevator dings to announce a new arrival. Artemi freezes, wondering how much of the doorway to the alcove he’s blocking. The doors slide open to reveal Crow, Duncs, and Seabs. They smile at him and head out of the elevator. They freeze almost simultaneously as they come level with him, and he swears they’ve practiced the synchronized lean to peer past him into the alcove. 

“Is that..?” Seabs trails off.

“Jesus Christ,” Duncs mutters.

“It’s about fucking time!” Crow basically yells, startling everyone within ten feet. There’s a couple of mumbled “ow”s from behind Artemi. “Who had the Vegas trip in the pool?” Crow turns to Seabs.

“I don’t know, man, I’d have to look. Pretty sure it wasn’t me though, dammit.”

“There’s a pool?!” Kaner does not sound pleased, even though his voice is still slightly muffled.

“Well, yeah,” Seabs retorts. “It’s one of the responsibilities Sharpy passed on to me after they announced my A.” He’s scrolling through something on his phone. “Goddammit!”

“What?” Duncs leans in to see the screen and then bursts out laughing.

“Can Sharpy still be in the pool?” Seabs asks Crow, passing the phone over. Crow cracks up laughing as well.

“Considering it says that Bur has the rest of the road trip, I’d say yes, apparently he can.”

“You’re all a bunch of assholes,” Tazer announces, pushing gently past, dragging Kaner along by the wrist. His smooth exit is enabled by an arriving elevator which spits out a few passengers at precisely the right moment. He pulls Kaner into the elevator, hits the button for their floor, and flips off the rest of them as the doors close. 

“Well,” Seabs says, “you guys think Sharpy’s up? We might need to FaceTime for this,” he trails off as he follows Crow and Duncs towards the restaurant.

The next arriving elevator reveals Viktor and Artem. 

_ “What’s up?”  _ Viktor asks.

“ _ We fixed Tazer’s problem,”  _ Artemi replies with a smile.

“ _ Think he’s going to stop hassling you now _ ?” Viktor chuckles.

“ _ Hell no. _ ”   
  


**Author's Note:**

> In case you'd like to see Captain Goon in action, hockeyfights.com has video of all of Jonny's sad attempts to be scary. And the game of keep-away which was indeed being filmed: http://leyley09.tumblr.com/post/137661336818/missentitlement-the-full-video-of-toews-and
> 
> Come yell at me about how ridiculous Jonathan Toews is at any time. Seriously.


End file.
